disoblig'd him? Or indeed, what injury to mankind? Who has he
oppress'd? Where play'd the tyrant or the ravisher? What one cruel or
angry thing has he committed in all the time of his fortunate and
peaceable reign over us? Whose ox or whose ass has he unjustly taken?
What orphan wrong'd, or widow's tears neglected? But all his life has
been one continued miracle; all good, all gracious, calm and merciful:
and this good, this god-like King, is mark'd out for slaughter,
design'd a sacrifice to the private revenge of a few ambitious knaves
and rebels, whose pretence is the public good, and doomed to be basely
murdered. A murder! even on the worst of criminals, carries with it a
cowardice so black and infamous, as the most abject wretches, the
meanest spirited creature has an abhorrence for. What! to murder a man
unthinking, unwarn'd, unprepar'd and undefended! oh barbarous! oh poor
and most unbrave! What villain is there lost to all humanity, to be
found upon the face of the earth, that, when done, dare own so hellish
a deed as the murder of the meanest of his fellow subjects, much less
the sacred person of the king; the Lord's anointed; on whose awful
face 'tis impossible to look without that reverence wherewith one
would behold a god! For 'tis most certain, that every glance from his
piercing, wondrous eyes, begets a trembling adoration; for my part, I
swear to you, _Philander_, I never approach his sacred person, but my
heart beats, my blood runs cold about me, and my eyes overflow with
tears of joy, while an awful confusion seizes me all over; and I am
certain should the most harden'd of your bloody rebels look him in the
face, the devilish instrument of death would drop from his
sacrilegious hand, and leave him confounded at the feet of the royal
forgiving sufferer; his eyes have in them something so fierce, so
majestic, commanding, and yet so good and merciful, as would soften
rebellion itself into repenting loyalty; and like _Caius Marius_, seem
to say,--'Who is it dares hurt the King?'--They alone, like his